Mistakes Not Forgotten
by Shipshipshipit
Summary: 'No one will have to know'...'It'll be fun'...'It's just one night'. Blaine shuddered as he recalled the all-too-familiar voice in his head. Just one night. One night which, unknown to him, would change the course of the rest of his life.- Blaine's world is turned upside down when he is informed that he has HIV; he now faces the task of telling Kurt, and explaining how he got it...
1. Chapter 1

**-Author's note-**

**So, this is the first chapter fic I've put up here. It was super sad to write, and I'm just at the first chapter. I'll be a mess by the end of it. **

**Anyways, I sincerely hope you like it; I really truly appreciate any reviews/comments, so feel free to leave them! I'll try to keep it updated as often as possible.**

**Enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER - I do not own or profit in any way from these characters.**

* * *

Blaine sat silently on the uncomfortable green chair outside his doctor's office, flipping through the stack of magazines piled high on the table beside him, trying to find something, _anything_, that looked vaguely interesting. He was awaiting the results of the blood test he had taken only a few days ago. He let out a tired sigh. God how he hated these tests. He had no choice of course; when his and Kurt's relationship became more serious they had both agreed to get routine STI tests. Blaine was used to them by now, but there was no denying the slight nagging feeling of nervousness he had this time. He knew why, deep down. But there was no admitting it. Not to anyone. Not even to himself - _especially_ not to himself.

Blaine tried his best to discard these feelings as he thumbed through his magazine; he had settled for an issue of Vogue which was now two years old. He smirked as he thought of how disapproving Kurt would be of him reading such an out of date copy. Five minutes later Blaine was still flipping through that same magazine; he couldn't get into it the same way that Kurt did. He had seen him read Vogue before. He was always so absorbed in it; scrutinizing each word of each article, each piece of each outfit. Blaine tried to do this, but ended up paying more attention to the male models in the ads. He put down the magazine, now bored of seeing what appeared to be the same article over and over again. Almost simultaneously the door swung open, and out walked a tall blonde woman with a clipboard in her hand. She consulted it before looking up,

"Blaine Anderson?" she called, eyes searching the room.

He looked up at the woman and forced a smile; an attempt to tell her that he was Blaine Anderson without actually having to utter a word. She got the message and smiled back.

"Doctor Hansman is ready for you," she said in a soft, yet quirky tone. Blaine gathered himself and stood up, his legs now almost asleep; he had been sitting down for a good half-hour. He stretched his arms in front of him before sleepily walking towards the door of the doctor's office. His nerves had been almost completely forgotten; it turns out thinking of his beloved boyfriend was all it took to distract him. Well, that and some good looking models. Blaine only had to take several steps before he arrived at the door. He walked past the blonde woman and made his way into the small, stuffy room, completely oblivious as to what was coming next. The door closed behind him, making a soft banging sound - one of the very last sounds Blaine would hear before it happened. For everything else would merely sound like a faint undertone compared to what the doctor was about to tell him.

* * *

Blaine stared forward blankly, his vision blurred. The doctor's voice right next to him, though sounding as though it was miles away. The room was spinning. It felt as though the world was crashing down before him. He inhaled a sharp breath and clumsily stumbled backward, dropping down into a nearby chair. He couldn't hear what the doctor was saying, couldn't think straight; different thoughts and recollections all jumbling together in his head, forming one long, depressing feature film. Everything felt dull and numb. His doctor's words were still ringing in his head. '_...I regret to tell you...your test...HIV positive..._'. Suddenly all those thoughts and feelings he had been suppressing earlier came rushing back to him. That night last summer. The night he had never told anyone about. His mind raced back. Resentment, guilt, regret...

'_No one will have to know_'...'_It'll be fun_'...'_It's just one night_'...

Blaine shuddered as he recalled the all-too-familiar voice in his head. Just one night. One night which, unknown to him, would change the course of the rest of his life. Blaine was all of a sudden overcome with new feelings; feelings of anger towards himself. How could he have been so naive. So inconsiderate. So...so stupid. Beads of sweat were now forming on Blaine's forehead. His heart was thumping hard against his chest. He felt as though he might pass out. Blaine blinked a few times, suddenly aware that the doctor's hand was outstretched towards him, holding a large looking pamphlet.

"Blaine?" The doctor said abruptly, a look of concern in his face.

Blaine took the pamphlet from his hand without looking at it, now wondering how long he had been trying to get his attention.

"This should cover any questions you may have, but if you need anything else - advice, help,...moral support, just come to me, ok?"

Blaine looked up to see his doctor's kind expression. He knew he meant it genuinely - he had been Blaine's doctor since he was a mere eight years old; he had helped him through a lot since then.

"Th-thanks. I will." Blaine managed to stammer out. He tucked the pamphlet inside his jacket pocket and stared glumly at the floor. There was a question that was bothering him - it had been gnawing at him since the doctor told him of his condition. He almost didn't dare ask it, he was so afraid of the answer...

"Doctor Hansman?" Blaine asked warily, his eyes still focused on the floor, not daring to look up.

"Yes, Blaine?"

"I was wondering, just... what's the...what's the...the life expectancy..." Blaine grimaced at the words which were coming out of his mouth. Doctor Hansman took a deep breath; he looked as though he knew this question was coming.

"There's no definitive answer, Blaine. Everybody's different; it really depends on how well your body responds to the treatments, and how well you look after yourself. Someone diagnosed with HIV at an early age could still potentially live a full life-"

Blaine kept his eyes on the ground. Hot tears were now forming in them. '_Could_', '_Potentially_'. The words were ringing in his head. What if he didn't? What if he didn't live a full life? What if all his dreams were no longer plausible? Going to university, getting married, raising kids... Doctor Hansman seemed to read his thoughts,

"Blaine, you'll be fine. You're a strong, determined young man. You always have been. I can still remember the little curly-haired boy who once sat in this very seat, demanding that I treat him for his strep throat as soon as possible so that he could sing at his school production of _Peter Pan_. You were so determined to get better before the performance, and you did. You were great."

Blaine managed to smile at the thought of this memory. He looked up to meet the doctor's eyes, only to notice a look of concern in them. The smile disappeared off his face as quickly as it had appeared.

"You're boyfriend-"

"Kurt." Blaine interjected promptly.

"Yes, Kurt. Has he been tested?" The doctor asked Blaine cautiously.

"Yeah, he got tested last week." Blaine replied shortly,

"And has he received his results?..." Blaine's heart plummeted. The thought which now possessed him made him want to bury himself 20 feet underground and never return to the surface. His stomach twisted itself into a thousand untieable knots. Kurt. Oh god - Kurt. Had...had Kurt contracted it from him? A mixture of guilt and worry surged through Blaine's veins.

"...N-no. No. He's-he's not got them back yet." Blaine managed to reply, his eyes now burning hot with the tears which he was trying tirelessly to blink back. The doctor looked concerned.

"Blaine, you do realize that you are legally obliged to inform your partner of your condition as soon as possible. Now, you have several options: provider referral, in which your health-care provider informs your partner for you; dual referral, in which you and the health department notify your partner together; or self referral, in which you would inform your partner yourself. It's your choice."

"I'll tell him myself." Blaine needed no time to consider the other options; he had to tell him himself. He...he needed to explain. The doctor nodded and looked down to scrawl something on the chart he was holding in his hand.

"Ok. Well, we'll schedule another appointment for you and we can look at different treatment options then." The doctor took a look at Blaine and sighed "I'm not going to lie, Blaine, this isn't going to be easy. But we'll try and help you to the best of our abilities. In the meantime, you may want to find someone you can talk to; your parents, a friend, a teacher..." Blaine grimaced at the thought of discussing this with any of the people Doctor Hansman had just suggested, but he nodded and tried his best to look grateful. He stood up, more than ready to leave. He needed to get out of there; needed to be alone. The doctor took his hand with his own and shook it, smiling at Blaine sympathetically. Blaine made a half-hearted attempt to smile back and headed for the door,

"Blaine?" He heard his doctor's voice echoing from behind him. He stood still for a minute, frantically trying to wipe away the tears which were now desperately trying to escape his eyes. He turned back around to face the doctor, not making any attempt to smile this time. He stared solemnly at the space between the two of them, not wanting to make eye contact. He stifled a soft 'yeah' in reply to the doctor, hoping the shakiness in his voice wasn't too apparent .

"This is a tough issue to deal with - for anyone. Especially a boy of your age...Just, know that when I said you'll be fine, I meant it."

Blaine looked up at the doctor appreciatively,

"Thanks."

With that, he turned around one last time and headed through the door and back into the dimly-lit waiting room. He walked past the table piled-high with magazines, past the row of poorly constructed chairs, past the busied receptionist, and out the sliding doors into the car park.

* * *

Blaine reached his car and fumbled for his keys. Glad to finally be alone, he opened the door and sat silently in the driver's seat. He took a deep, shaky breath. It was all too much. He was seventeen. He was in high school. The only problems he was meant to be having at his age were getting a D on his geometry test, or not having enough time to rehearse for sectionals - but all those things which he had been worrying about a few days ago seemed stupid compared to this. Blaine's head was now pounding. He couldn't think straight. What was he going to tell his parents; how was he going to tell Kurt? He felt alone and ashamed. What was he going to do? He ran a hand through his thick curls before placing his face in both hands. He did the only thing he had left to do; he cried. He let the tears which had been struggling at his eyes roll down his cheeks. He let them mingle with the beads of sweat which were trickling down from his forehead. He let go of any attempts to keep himself composed, and just cried.

Minutes passed before Blaine finally lifted his head from his hands. He turned to look at the clock, catching a glimpse of himself in the rear-view mirror. He frowned at the man who was staring back at him. He was a mess. His eyes puffy and red, his hair matted, his cheeks hot. He looked away in disgust, turning his attention back to the clock. It was nearly 5:30. He let out a low breath and leaned against the icy glass of the window, the coldness feeling good against his throbbing head and burning cheeks. His heavy eyes closed for a minute before re-opening. He was exhausted. His emotions had completely drained him of all energy. He hadn't cried that hard since he was a little boy. In fact, he'd hardly cried at all. He had always been so concerned with his image; had never wanted people to think of him as weak or pathetic. So he had just concealed any negative emotions. There was always a smile plastered on his face. He had become Always-Cheery-Blaine, and he was happy with that. He didn't want anyone to think otherwise.

His fingers traced the buttons on his jacket. Would they think of him differently if they found out. Would he become Never-Cheery-Blaine. Would people give him constant looks of sympathy, just like Doctor Hansman had. Blaine thought about this for a moment before his eye once again caught the clock. 5:37. He breathed a heavy sigh, straightening up in his seat. He had tried to put off going home for as long as he could. He had been dreading telling his parents almost more than anything. He pictured their reactions; his mother's worried eyes, his father's harsh glare. He put the keys in the ignition and turned them; if he waited any longer he was sure he would be too exhausted to even hold the ability to drive. He tried his best to ignore the knotted feeling in his stomach as he reversed out of the parking spot and onto the road, beginning the journey towards home; the journey towards the unsettling glowers and worried stares that awaited him; the journey towards the beginning of a life that would never be the same.


	2. Chapter 2

**- Author's note -**

**Chapter 2 is here! I pretty much just stationed myself in front of the computer this morning, tea in hand, and wrote all day. I'm really starting to like this chapter fic writing - I especially enjoyed doing the fluffy little Klaine flashback ;)**

**The song that Kurt and Blaine listen to is Little Bird by Annie Lennox, from the album Diva.**

**Hope you enjoy reading this one as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

* * *

Blaine kept his hands gripped tight on the steering wheel as he approached his street. He could just make out the beige siding of his house through the trees perched on the corner; he recalled all the times he had seen this sight as a child; an indicator that he was almost home, almost back within the comfort and warmth of his house. Though as he approached it today, it didn't feel nearly as comforting as it had before. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He wanted more than anything to keep driving; for the road to stretch out in front of him and never stop; for the beige walls of his house to disappear forever.

Suddenly, Blaine heard something; a tune, which sounded familiar. He briefly wondered where it was coming from, before realizing that the radio had been on the whole time without him knowing. He listened intently over the roar of the engine, turning up the volume ever so slightly.

_I walk along the city streets__  
So dark with rage and fear__  
And I...__  
I wish that I could be that bird__  
And fly away from here__  
I wish I had the wings to fly away from here_

Blaine recognized it as soon as he heard the lyrics; Kurt loved this song. His mind flashed back to when he had first listened to it with him a few years ago.

* * *

_"What's this?" Kurt asked from across the room, producing a large, taped up box._

_"Hm?" Blaine looked over from the other side of his room, where he was taking books out of a different box and arbitrarily placing them on a nearby book shelf. "I actually have no idea."He replied curiously, "Where'd you find it?"_

_"Well, it was tucked at the very back of your closet. Along with and an old tennis shoe and - is that a Pop Tart?" _

_"Oh, I've been looking for that, thanks!" Blaine sniggered. _

_Kurt rolled his eyes, _

_"When you asked me to help organize your room, I had no idea how much dire need you were actually in." He said, promptly picking up the old Pop Tart with his fingertips and dropping it into the black garbage bag beside him._

_"Actually, If I remember correctly, you were the one begging me to let you help." Blaine retorted slyly._

_Kurt scoffed and promptly turned his attention back to the cardboard box. Blaine walked over and kneeled down beside him, intrigued to see what was inside this box which had been hidden in the depths of his room for so long. _

_"Shall we?" Blaine grinned, handing Kurt the Stanley knife."I'll let you do the honors."_

_Kurt smiled and took the knife from Blaine, pressing it down to the slot in the box, tearing the masking tape as he dragged it along. He swiftly put down the knife and opened the cardboard flaps to reveal the contents. There were stacks upon stacks of old CDs and cassette tapes piled up inside. An excited grin spread across Blaine's face._

_"Oh man - I'd completely forgotten about this! I bought the entire box at a yard sale a few years ago - I never got a chance to look through it though." Blaine said eagerly as he started digging through the mess of dusty CDs and cassettes._

_"Only you would buy a box of CDs that was nearly as tall as yourself" Kurt said teasingly as he too started to look through the piles, ignoring the scowl that had appeared on his boyfriend's face in response to his remark . Suddenly something caught his eye; he picked it up hastily to look at it._

_"I remember this." He said with a fond smile on his face,_

_"Hmm?" Blaine said, still absorbed in inspecting the contents of the box._

_"My Mom; she used to listen to this album all the time. She'd put it on whenever she was doing housework and sing along; I still have memories of watching her dance around with the broom when she thought no one was watching." Kurt let out a soft laugh and opened the case, "I used to play it for her when she got ill; It always cheered her up." A look of sadness flickered across his eyes._

_Blaine looked up at his boyfriend with a warm smile, "Go put it on."_

_Kurt nodded and took out the CD with delicate fingers. Blaine watched him as he hopped up and walked towards the enormous stereo system on the other side of the room, placing it inside before consulting the track listing on the back of the album. He promptly skipped to the last track, walking back towards the couch beside Blaine and dropping down on it,_

_"This was her favorite song." He said softly. Blaine looked up and noticed a tear rolling down Kurt's cheek. He got up and positioned himself beside Kurt on the couch, pulling him in close with his arm. He leaned in close and pressed a kiss to his cheek, wiping the tears away with his lips. They both listened to the lyrics which were now surrounding them._

_..._

_I look up to the little bird__  
That glides across the sky__  
He sings the clearest melody__  
It makes me want to cry__  
It makes me want to sit right down__  
And cry cry cry_

_I walk along the city streets_

_So dark with rage and fear__  
And I...__  
I wish that I could be that bird__  
And fly away from here__  
I wish I had the wings to fly away from here_

_For I am just a troubled soul__  
Who's weighted...__  
Weighted to the ground__  
Give me the strength to carry on__  
Till I can lay this burden down__  
Give me the strength to lay this burden down__  
Down down yea__h__  
Give me the strength to lay it down__ ..._

_Kurt snuggled closer to Blaine, resting his head on his chest. They both listened intently as the song rolled to an end,_

_But my my I feel so low__  
My my where do I go?__  
My my what do I know?__  
My my we reap what we sow__  
They always said that you knew best__  
But this little bird's fallen out of that nest now__  
I've got a feeling that it might have been blessed__  
So I've just got to put these wings to test..._

_The CD player flickered and soon they were engulfed in silence, listening to nothing but the steady breathing of one another._

_"My mom used tell me to remember to spread my wings; to embrace things, no matter how bad, and not run away from them. And, I know It's kind of stupid, but, It's always stuck with me. I've never forgotten to spread my wings."_

_Blaine smiled as he placed a light kiss atop of Kurt's head. _

_"It's not stupid at all."_

* * *

Blaine smiled softly as he once again heard the song flicker to an end. He turned the corner and approached the familiar paved driveway of his house. He ignored the nagging urge to drive straight past; he knew he had to face his parents sometime, and now was as good a time as ever. But all the same, he couldn't help feeling as though it wasn't just talking to his parents he was afraid of. It was something bigger than that. It was having to face the reality of things. The seriousness of it all. He felt like if he could just not talk about it to anyone, he could pretend it wasn't really happening. Pretend things were normal. Pretend there was nothing wrong.

He parked the car on an inadvertent slant and turned off the engine. He sat motionless for a moment before taking a deep breath and unbuckling his seat belt, reaching a shaky hand towards the door handle. His hand pulled open the door and he stepped out onto the driveway, the freshly fallen snow crunching beneath his feet. He put one foot in front of the other, walking slowly and unsteadily towards his front door. His breath was getting heavier and more unsteady with each step. After what felt like an extensive amount of time, he reached the dark mahogany door of his house, which was now looking more daunting than ever. He inhaled one last trembling breath before opening the door and stepping into the entrance hall.

Blaine fumbled to unbutton his jacket, placing it on the tall coat rack beside the door; not noticing when it fell back to the floor with a thud. He stepped forward hesitantly, glancing back at the door one last time, as though he was contemplating whether making a run for it would be a viable option. He began to move towards the living room where his parents were situated, the empty sounds of the TV growing louder with each step he took. Soon enough, Blaine was standing in the doorway. He entered the room to see his parents sitting on the couch; his mother staring blankly at the television, his father doing paperwork on the coffee table. His mother's head snapped up as soon as he entered the room.

"Blaine, honey, It's nearly 6:30, what took you so long?"

Blaine hesitated,

"I...I..." Blaine began, his heart now hammering in his chest "Uh - It was busy. The...the doctor's office. A lot of people there. Yeah. I guess Saturday's a...popular day to go to the doctor's." He stammered out nervously. He bit his lip; his knack for thinking on the spot seemed to have vanished completely.

"Ok then..." His mother replied, a look of uncertainty flickering across her face "Well, we saved you some food - It's in the microwave."

"Kay. Thanks." Blaine replied, still not moving from his spot next to the door frame.

His mother eyed him cautiously,

"Blaine?" She asked, a tone of hesitance in her voice.

"Yeah?" He replied, looking around the room nervously; trying his best to avoid eye contact.

"Aren't you going to eat?" She asked him, a puzzled look on her face.

"I'm...actually not really hungry at the moment, thanks anyway though." He smiled at her graciously, trying his best to hide the anxiousness in his voice.

"Is everything ok? Did something happen at the appointment?" She asked worriedly, her motherly instincts kicking in. His father had now looked up from his papers to glance at Blaine.

This was it. He had to tell them. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He closed it again, Kurt's words now ringing in his head,

_... Remember to spread my wings; to embrace things, no matter how bad, and not run away from them..._

The words which had once rung so true to Blaine now seemed unfeasible. He took a deep breath, trying to get a hold of himself. He steadied his mind. He had to tell them; he had to stop pretending this wasn't real. He looked down at the concerned stare of his mother, the harsh glare of his father; both listening closely for an answer from Blaine. Blaine opened his mouth once more,

"It went fine. I'm fine. Everything's ok." He said, a reassuring smile plastered on his face. His mother breathed a sigh of relief and his father turned promptly back to his paper work, not saying a word.

Not fully understanding what he had just said; what he had just done, Blaine turned to walk up the stairs and towards his room, the same reassuring smile still plastered on his face. Even after he crossed the threshold into his room, the smile remained unchanged. He wasn't wearing it just for his parents anymore, but instead wearing it for himself; desperately trying to convince himself - not that everything was ok, no, he was trying to convince himself that there was nothing wrong in the first place. He was doing what he did best; trying to escape reality.

* * *

Blaine lay on his bed late into the night, doing nothing but listening to the soothing sounds of the wind whistling against his window. He had spent so much time thinking that day, he needed to lie down and let his mind go blank. Just as Blaine's eyes started to flicker closed, his phone lit up. He grimaced as he picked it up from the bedside table, the glare of the screen hurting his strained eyes. It was a text from Kurt,

_Hey baby, how was your day? _

Blaine stared long and hard at the text, as though Kurt had just asked him the solution to the world's most complicated math problem. He didn't know how to respond; he didn't even want to think about his day, let alone talk about it. He eventually let his phone drop to his side, not having the energy or strength to reply. Instead he let his heavy eyes close shut, thoughts and memories mingling together in his mind as he drifted to sleep.

* * *

**A/N - I should be posting chapter 3 up within the next few days, presuming I'm not too busied with New Years plans and such.**


	3. Chapter 3

**- Author's note -**

**So, here's chapter 3! Sorry for the wait; I was pretty busy with New Years plans and then school starting again - and, to finish it off, I got pink eye and was in bed for all of about 2 days. Anyways, despite all of my struggles, I finally got it written!**

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

The Anderson household awoke to its usual humdrum routine the next morning. Mr. Anderson busied himself getting his papers ready for work as his wife made them both a pot of coffee; the intoxicating smell slowly waking them up from their languid state.

Mrs. Anderson sat across the table from her husband, placing a faded mug of coffee in front of him. She sipped her own drink slowly as she watched him sort through the pile of neatly stacked papers. Her mind soon wandered off as she recalled the evening before,

"Did Blaine seem a little off to you last night?" Mrs. Anderson asked her husband curiously, breaking the silence.

Mr. Anderson looked up from his papers momentarily, eyeing his wife with a frown. He grunted something indistinct before returning to his work, brushing it off with a sip of his coffee.

"He didn't seem his usual self - he was so scattered and anxious..." She continued, ignoring her husband's disinterest in the matter. "Do you think something's wrong?"

Mr. Anderson breathed a heavy sigh,

"He's fine, dear. He told us so himself," He replied, still not looking up, "And it would be his own fault if he wasn't." He added quietly under his breath. A concerned look remained on Mrs. Anderson's face for a minute before she busied her mind with something else, deciding it was probably nothing. She did, after all, have the tendency to over-think things.

* * *

It wasn't until noon that Blaine finally emerged from his bed, heavy-eyed and groggy. He sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his tired eyes as he tried to recall the events of the previous day. It took him a minute before they came back to him - hitting him like a gunshot when they did. He wondered briefly whether or not it had all been a part of some horrific nightmare; whether he had dreamt up the whole thing. But the actuality of it soon dawned on him; too real and vivid to not be true.

Blaine was soon distracted by the slight ache in his head; a result of the stress and trauma from the day before. He got up from his place on the bed, frowning as he looked down to realize that he had fallen asleep fully clothed. He moved towards his closet, his tight clothing causing him a great deal of discomfort after having slept in it all night. He took off his jeans and shirt, trading it for some sweatpants and his old Dalton hoodie. Still trudging sleepily, Blaine walked downstairs, the promise of caffeine and Advil now too great to ignore.

Blaine entered the kitchen to hear the faint clinking of dishes being washed. His mother was finishing off the dishes from breakfast, staring intently at the small TV which was mounted on the wall. He headed towards the cupboard beside the fridge and opened it, pulling out several small bottles and examining their labels before finally finding the painkillers. He fumbled to open the bottle and emptied two of the small tablets into his hand.

"Are you alright?" Blaine's mother seemed to have torn her attention away from the TV and was now glancing up at Blaine.

"Headache." Blaine replied shortly, swallowing the contents of his hand. His mother nodded sympathetically,

"There's still coffee in the pot, if you want it." She offered, gesturing towards the coffee maker with her head. Blaine nodded, shooting her a thankful smile as he reached for a mug. He took the one closest to him, studying the calming pattern which wound its way around the rim as he moved towards the coffee maker. He poured what was remaining of the coffee into the mug and went to sit down, clutching the mug securely in his hands; the warmth of it feeling good against his skin. He slumped over the table and drank his coffee in silence, his mind still feeling fuzzy and blurred. Blaine's mother dried her hands and came to sit down beside her son, placing a comforting hand on his forehead,

"You should lie back down, Blaine, you look terrible." She suggested in a caring tone. Blaine looked up at his mother with tired eyes and nodded feebly,

"Once I'm done my coffee." He replied, his voice weak and frail. His mother stayed sat down next to him, a look of concern remaining on her face.

"...Blaine, are you sure you're ok?" She asked him softly, her thoughts from earlier that morning once again nagging at her.

"Yeah. It's fine, It doesn't even hurt that much." Blaine replied offhandedly, offering his mother a weak smile in an attempt to prove that he was alright.

"No, I mean - last night. You seemed...upset." The words came out of her mouth slowly and carefully. The smile vanished from Blaine's face - he sat staring frozen at his mother, racking his hazy mind for something to say. He wanted desperately to tell her everything. To tell her the truth and admit to her all which he had previously denied .To have her comfort him - and to be able to feel like he wasn't alone in this. This was his chance to face reality once and for all. But he couldn't bring himself to tell her; what if facing reality made things even worse than they already were? What if she didn't comfort him? What if her concern and kindness turned to resentment and disgust; what if it made him feel even more alone? He dropped his gaze back down to his coffee cup, trying desperately to find his words,

"...I told you, mom, I'm fine." He finally uttered, looking up once again to meet his mother's warm gaze. He felt instantly guilty. She was his mother - she deserved to know, no matter how she reacted. Just...not now.

Blaine gave his mother a tight hug and made his way back upstairs. As soon as he closed the door to his bedroom, he collapsed sleepily onto his mattress,

"Ughh," Blaine mumbled, having landed on something hard which was pressing into his back. He grimaced as he rolled over onto his stomach and felt around blindly with one hand, trying to find the object on which he had landed. He finally recovered the object and propped himself up on his elbows to examine it. It was his phone. He clicked it on to find half a dozen missed calls and texts from Kurt. Blaine read through them,

_What's up?_

_Wanna meet up today?_

_Are you there?_

_I miss you._

_Are you ok?_

Blaine didn't know what to do. He thought about replying - he really did. But when it came to it, he didn't know what to say. He couldn't just pretend nothing was wrong; but he certainly couldn't tell him something _was_ wrong over a text message. In fact, he wasn't sure he could tell Kurt at all, at the moment. He'd wait. He'd tell him in person before long.

But Blaine didn't tell him before long. The time trickled through Blaine's fingers like water, and before he knew it, four days had passed. Four dull, monotonous days, in which Blaine did nothing but sleep and watch _Friends_ reruns. He didn't talk to Kurt - or anyone. His entire social life consisted almost entirely of idle conversations with his mother and father. And the more Blaine waited; the more the days dragged on, the more prominent the guilt became. It was always there - Blaine could feel it in the pit of his stomach, constantly nagging at him; making him feel as though the weight of the world had been laden on his shoulders, weighing him down wherever he went.

* * *

"Blaine, dear, you need to get out." Blaine's mother had stationed herself in front of the TV, obstructing his view.

"Mom. I can't see the TV." Blaine said in a monotone voice from his place on the armchair, ignoring his mother's words. His mother sighed and took the remote from his hand, turning off the TV in one firm motion. Blaine looked up briefly at his mother, but made no attempt to stop her. He stared back at the blank screen, motionless, as though not realizing it had been turned off.

"Blaine. Look at me." His mother now stood directly in front of him, forcing him to meet her stare. "Blaine. It's been almost five days now. _Five days._ Five days in which you've done absolutely nothing. Now, I know it's Christmas Break. But that doesn't give you an excuse to sit around at home moping about - _god knows what. _But whatever it is, you won't tell me. And that means I can't help; so this is me _trying_ to help. You have to go out and do something. Go see Kurt - or one of your friends from the Warblers. I don't care. But you need to get out of the house."

Blaine stared up at his mother in surprise, not sure how to react. He wasn't used to her being so - so..._abrupt._

"Are you - _are you kicking me out_?" Blaine managed to reply, a confused look on his face.

"Oh, honey, it's for your own good." His mother replied gently. She reached down onto the coffee table and picked up the car keys, tossing them towards her son. "_Take your time. Have fun. Drive carefully_..." He heard his mother call as she walked out of the sitting room, leaving Blaine on his own with the keys in his lap.

Still gaping, Blaine picked up the keys and looked at them vacantly. He wasn't sure exactly _what _had just happened. He usually had to _beg _to borrow the car, and here was his mother, tossing him the keys and _telling him_ he had to leave. He sat there for another minute, wondering if his mother would notice if he ignored her advice and turned the TV back on, but decided against it; maybe she was right. Maybe it'd do him good to get out.

Blaine stood up and headed towards the entrance hall to put on his jacket, catching his reflection in the window and making a half-hearted attempt to smooth over his curly hair. He fastened his jacket and stepped out of the front door, the cool winter air feeling good as it brushed against his cheeks.

Blaine turned on the ignition and reversed out of the driveway, not having to give any thought as to where he was going - he had made the decision almost subconsciously. He was going where he always went; whenever he was anxious or stressed, or just needed to take his mind off things.

* * *

Blaine walked through the doors of the gym and into the locker room. He opened his locker and stuffed his jacket inside before pulling his hoodie off over his head, leaving him in only his sweats and his white wife beater vest. He exchanged his boots for sneakers and walked back out into the deserted gym area, heading immediately towards the punching bags.

_One hit_; Blaine's clenched fist rammed straight into the bag, sending it swinging on its chain. _Another hit_; Blaine felt the tension releasing from his shoulders. _One more hit_; Blaine focused on nothing but the impact of his fist against the punching bag, his veins coursing with adrenaline as it collided. He hit again, and again - feeling as though he was hitting not only the punching bag, but all the mistakes he had made, and all the wrongs he had done. He punched harder with every blow, his hot ears roaring, sweat drenching his clothes.

"I thought I'd find you here." A familiar voice came from behind Blaine, resounding over the echoes of the swinging chain.

Blaine stopped abruptly, his heart still thumping with adrenaline. The bag swung back and forth in front of him, slowly coming to a halt.

"...Kurt?" Blaine croaked unsurely, still facing away from the voice. He turned around to see his boyfriend, fully clad in skinny jeans and a pinstripe vest. He wore a warm smile on his face, but Blaine could detect a look of concern underneath. He stared at him for a vague moment before breaking the silence,

"Kurt. Um - what are you doing here?" Blaine asked him, a slight tone of shock in his voice as he took off his boxing gloves and dropped them to the floor.

"I actually called your house - your mom told me you were out. She, um, she also mentioned that you'd been kind of depressed lately...I - I had a feeling I'd find you here..." Kurt's voice drifted away and left an awkward air of silence lingering between them. Blaine gazed down at the floor, feelings of guilt and shame once again nagging at him; now more immense than ever. Kurt eyed his boyfriend anxiously, his smile fading,

"Blaine, what's going on?" Kurt asked desperately, his voice uneasy and concerned. "You haven't been answering my calls or texts - no one's heard from you since last week, and now you're - you're _boxing_. _I know you_, Blaine. I _know_ you only do that when you're upset. Was it - was it something I did?"

"No - _no. _It's - It's nothing to do with you, Kurt. I've just been kind of...kind of out of it lately. I'm fine. I just...needed some time to myself - to sort things out. It's nothing - really." Blaine wanted to kick himself for not telling Kurt what was wrong then and there. But seeing him like that - so worried and concerned - his first and only instinct was to comfort him. To tell him everything was ok; even though, this time, everything _wasn't_ ok.

_I don't have to tell him now - It doesn't have to be now. _Blaine reassured himself; promising himself that he'd tell him soon - when the moment felt right.

"You sure?" Kurt asked softly, his voice relieved but still carrying a tinge of worry.

"Positive." Blaine walked over to his boyfriend and pulled him into a tight embrace. Kurt pulled away quickly,

"Blaine, babe, I love you - but you're drenched in sweat and I _just _bought this vest."

Blaine laughed at his boyfriend's response,

"Oh, scared of a bit of sweat, are you?" He teased, opening his arms once more in an attempt to pull Kurt into another hug. Kurt backed away slowly with what appeared to be a genuinely terrified look on his face.

"Nu-uh, mister. You are _not _touching me until you've had a shower."

"Is that so?" Blaine asked intently, walking towards Kurt, who was walking backwards cautiously, staring wide-eyed at his boyfriend. Kurt backed up even faster as his boyfriend pursued him, until he found himself bumping into the back wall, and suddenly,

THUMP

Blaine had pounced on him, knocking him to the ground.

"GOT YOU." Blaine laughed, pinning Kurt down. Kurt tried briefly to break free of Blaine's grip, but failed hopelessly and stifled a giggle at his own weak attempt. After a moment their laughter died down and they both became silent, suddenly aware of the position they were in. Blaine stared longingly at his boyfriend from his place on top of him, and in that moment, for a brief second, he forgot about everything else - the doctor's appointment, the test results, the night of regret - all of that disappeared as he gazed into Kurt's incredible eyes, feeling as though all that mattered was them, right then, right there. He closed the gap between him and Kurt with a deep kiss. Kurt responded and wrapped his hands around Blaine's neck, not seeming to mind the sweat anymore. Blaine moved his lips down and pressed them against Kurt's neck. Kurt let out a low groan. He pulled Blaine's head close to his,

"_There's no one here...the place is deserted..._" he whispered desperately into Blaine's ear. Blaine writhed slightly at the feeling of Kurt's warm breath against his ear. He felt Kurt move his hands down to the band of Blaine's sweatpants, inching them down. Blaine hesitated, lifting his head slightly.

"What is it?" Kurt breathed, looking up slightly at Blaine. Blaine reached down to take Kurt's hand in his, pulling it away from the elastic band of his sweats.

"Not now." He pulled Kurt's hand to his mouth and placed a light kiss atop it before making to get up off of his boyfriend.

"What? Don't you want to...?" Kurt asked, a thrown expression on his face.

"-No. I mean, of course I want to. I just - I..._can't_." Blaine replied, now sitting on the floor next to his boyfriend, staring gravely at the ground.

"Wha-what do you mean you _can't_?" Kurt asked, confused.

Blaine couldn't tell him why. He couldn't tell him the truth; that he was afraid he'd give him the disease which he had contracted from a filthy, disgusting one night stand. He just...couldn't.

"I - um - I can't do it here...I mean, _we _can't do it here. Someone might...walk in. Plus, there's...there's - cameras. Yep. Cameras - cameras...everywhere." Blaine replied hastily.

Kurt looked around the room.

"Blaine - there's no cameras in here. And no one ever comes in here - the only person who ever comes here to box anymore is you." Kurt replied suspiciously.

"Well - I mean, there's still the cameras." Blaine said quickly

"Blaine, I told you, I can't see _any _cameras in here." Kurt said, looking at his boyfriend with a frown.

"Hidden cameras, Kurt." Blaine said in a sure voice. Kurt rolled his eyes,

"Fine, you win - though I still don't think you're telling me the truth." Kurt said in an exasperated tone. Blaine placed one last kiss on Kurt's lips and got up, ignoring his boyfriend's last statement.

"I'm gonna go get changed." He said, and with that he walked towards the locker room.

"I'll be waiting..." He heard Kurt call from behind him as the door to the locker room slammed shut.

Blaine took off his dirty clothes and got straight in the shower, letting the cold water run down his face and body. He thought about how close a call that was; he couldn't let it happen again. He really did have to tell him. Those words rang in his head as he turned off the shower and reached for a towel; _he really did have to tell him. He really did have to tell his parents. He really did have to face reality. He had been an idiot in thinking even for a second that he didn't._

* * *

**A/N **

**So, I know what you're probably thinking, "When the hell is Blaine gonna suck it up and tell someone?". And, the answer to that is, soon. All I'm going to say is that he'll have a run in with a certain old friend and may or may not let it spill...**


	4. Chapter 4

**-Author's note-**

**Ok. First of all, I apologize for the wait. This was kind of a hard chapter to write, and it's kind of on the long side, so it was hard to find the time to write it.**

**So, the only thing to note is that the italicized sequence is Blaine thinking back to what happened as he retells the story, just in case that wasn't clear.**

**Thanks for the interest this has gotten so far! Just to know that people like the story enough to follow/favorite/review it is amazing! **

**Also I'd like to say thanks to my beta testers who I realize I've forgotten to mention as of yet. They're amazing. Ok, enjoy!**

* * *

Blaine stood uneasily in the scattered line at the Lima Bean, anxious for his morning coffee. He was on edge and tense; after having woken up to the rather unpleasant realization that there was no coffee to be found anywhere in his house (he had raided the kitchen twice, just to be sure) he had been faced with the task of going out to get some himself; at eight thirty in the morning; in the freezing cold.

Blaine stared blankly into space as he rubbed his frozen hands together, still stinging from the cold. Suddenly a voice came from beside him, waking him from his dazed state and causing him to jump slightly,

"Well, if it isn't Blaine Anderson, back from the dead," the voice chuckled smoothly. Blaine turned slightly to find a familiar face grinning down at him.

"Sebastian? '_Back from the dead'?_ Really?I hardly ever see you anyway. As far as you're concerned, I was never _dead _in the first place," Blaine replied in an exasperated tone.

"Well, you sure look like it," retorted Sebastian, looking at Blaine with raised eyebrows. Blaine shot him an irritated look and reached a hand up to fix his hair.

"Aw, c'mon, I was only joking; you look fine!" Sebastian said quickly,

"Yeah, well, it wasn't funny."

Blaine stepped forward slightly to assume his position in line.

"_Someone's_ having a bad day..." Sebastian uttered, taking his place in the line next to Blaine.

"Make that a bad week," Blaine replied darkly.

"Well, you're just a ray of sunshine today, aren't you?" Sebastian rolled his eyes, "...What's up Blaine; something bothering you?" He added more seriously, noticing that his snarky remarks didn't seem to be humoring Blaine at all.

"It's nothi-"

_"What can I get for you?"_ Blaine was interrupted by the woman behind the counter. Sebastian turned to Blaine just as he was about to take his order,

"Come sit down with me once you've got your coffee," he said before quickly turning back around to take his own order, not giving Blaine a chance to respond. Blaine bit his lip and stood motionless for a second, then nodded vaguely in answer, not entirely sure if Sebastian could still see him.

"Sir?"

Blaine turned his attention back to the woman,

"...Um, one medium drip, thanks. Actually, make that an extra-large."

* * *

"So, what's wrong?" Sebastian said blatantly as he took his seat across the table from Blaine.

"As I was saying, it's nothing. I'm completely fine-" Blaine began as he started taking the lid off of his coffee cup.

"-Oh, come on, Blaine," Sebastian said, looking directly at him.

"...What?" Blaine asked, looking down; Sebastian's glare making him feel slightly uncomfortable.

"I'm not an idiot you know; the edgy mannerism and glum expression, the extra-large coffee, the un-styled hair-" Blaine frowned and once again shot a hand up to his hair "-I know there's something wrong."

Blaine stared at Sebastian with a furrow between his brows.

"There's...It's...I'm fi-" Blaine started again,

"Blaine, just tell me. What is it? _Boy troubles_? _Depressed about going back to school_? I would be if I were going to McKinley - _Is this about the New Directions_? Because there's always a spot back at Dalton with The Warblers..." Sebastian trailed off, noticing the upset expression on Blaine's face.

"...Blaine?" Blaine was staring downwards, and Sebastian was sure he could see tears forming in his eyes, "...Blaine, what is it?"

Blaine glanced up to Sebastian; his entire persona had changed - he had a sincere look in his eyes that Blaine had never seen before.

"...I...I..." there were now definite tears in Blaine's eyes. He looked down again and ran a shaky hand through his hair. Sebastian noticed the tears which were struggling at Blaine's eyes slowly start to make their way down his cheeks. "It's-I_-I just-I can't..._" Blaine started, unable to grasp enough words to form a full sentence.

Sebastian sat somewhat uncomfortably for a moment, taken aback by Blaine's sudden outburst of emotions. Here was the boy who was so confident; the boy who was never seen without a smile on his face; the boy who never faltered in any way; crying across the table from him.

Sebastian reached across the table and placed a hand on Blaine's shoulder, looking around unsurely; suddenly all-too conscious that they were in a coffee shop.

"Hey...look...do you want to go somewhere else?"

Blaine remained silent for a minute, then nodded, not saying anything.

"Ok. Let's-let's go," Sebastian stammered slightly, still feeling somewhat stunned. Blaine picked up his coffee with unsteady hands and got up to walk with Sebastian towards the exit, his face still turned down and hidden by his coat collar.

The boys walked across the icy parking lot in silence before arriving at Sebastian's car. He opened the door to the passenger seat for Blaine before walking around the car to get in the driver's side. Once Sebastian slammed the door shut, the only sounds to be heard were Blaine's shaky breaths and the faint hum of passing traffic. After a few still moments, Sebastian spoke,

"So...where do you - uh - where do you want to go-?" he asked awkwardly, glancing sideways at Blaine.

"-_Can we...can we just...stay here for a bit_?" Blaine asked, a tone of desperation in his voice. Sebastian looked at Blaine again with searching eyes,

"...Yeah - yeah, sure. Do you - do you want to talk about..." he started, his words drifting off awkwardly. Blaine said nothing in response, but instead kept his gaze fixed downwards. Sebastian's eyes lingered on Blaine for a few brief moments before he turned back around to face forwards, clearing his throat awkwardly as he took a sip from his coffee cup.

"..._Sebastian_?" Blaine asked after a few minutes of silence, his voice weak and cracked.

"Yeah?" Sebastian replied, glancing back over at Blaine.

"_I_...I have to tell somebody."

Sebastian mulled over the words that were coming out of Blaine's mouth, trying to make some sense of them.

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"I-I went to the doctor's-and, I haven't told anyone about it yet-and...I..._I_..." Blaine tripped over the words as they came out of his mouth.

"-Haven't…haven't told anyone about what, Blaine?" Sebastian asked unsurely, a look of concern sweeping across his face.

Blaine hesitated. His mouth opened again, but he said nothing for another few moments,

"..._I'm HIV positive_." Blaine's voice cut through the silence like a knife as he uttered the words which had been struggling to escape him for so long. And then, before he even knew what was happening, Blaine found himself crying again. Not just because he was scared; not just because he was anxious; he was crying because...he was relieved. Relieved to finally lift the weight which had been laden on his shoulders for so long. Relieved to finally face reality. And, Blaine had never imagined it to feel so...good.

Sebastian's mouth hung open slightly, the words slashing at him unexpectedly.

"I...Blaine...I'm so-"

"Don't-don't do that." Blaine uttered through his tears.

"...Do what?"

"_Don't say you're sorry_. I-I don't need someone to feel pity for me, Sebastian...I just-I just need..._someone to talk to_," Blaine said, looking up to Sebastian with desperate eyes.

Sebastian looked at Blaine vacantly for another moment, and then slowly nodded his head, noticing the pleading expression in Blaine's wet eyes.

"Blaine…how long have you known?" Sebastian asked carefully, not wanting to upset the dark haired boy even further.

"…J-just over a week."

"…And…was…was Kurt…does he…did he..." Sebastian broke off, not knowing how to word his sentence.

Blaine's face contorted into a pained expression upon hearing the mention of Kurt's name. He breathed heavily before voicing his reply,

"..._No…I…I didn't get it from Kurt_…"

"Then who-" Sebastian bit his lip; he knew better than to ask Blaine something like that when he was so fragile, but the words had escaped his mouth before he had had a chance to stop them. Blaine looked down, clearly feeling uncomfortable. Sebastian hadn't finished the question, though Blaine knew exactly what it was. It lay in the air, unspoken, begging to be answered.

Blaine looked back up at Sebastian, as though debating whether or not to answer it. His mind once again raced back to the night six months ago. No matter how hard he tried to forget, the scenes still lay vivid in his mind, clear as though they had only happened the night before. Blaine tried his best to suppress the images as he moved his focus back to Sebastian. Blaine was feeling slightly conflicted; he usually found Sebastian to be smug and vain; but right now he was seeing a completely different side to him – a side he hadn't known before. He seemed so genuine and real; Blaine felt as though he could tell him everything…

"It-_It happened last summer_…" Blaine began, allowing the images to come flooding back into his mind as he recounted what had happened, for the first time, to someone other than himself…

* * *

"_One, two, three…GO!" Blaine heard a whistle sound as he dived into the pool, the cool glimmering water engulfing his body. He swam forwards vigorously; never once letting his eyes stray from his target. He kicked his arms and legs in rhythm as he moved deeper into the middle of the pool, and then, drawing a deep breath, he thrust himself downwards, the water fully encompassing his body. The sounds from above the surface of the water became dull and hazy as he moved further into the depths of the pool. He squinted his eyes open as he reached the tiles at the bottom, feeling around somewhat blindly, trying to grab a hold of his target._

_Oh shit. Where is it?_

_Blaine started panicking slightly, but then felt his fingers graze something, and, in one swift motion, grasped the object and turned back around towards the surface. He kicked his legs furiously while trying to hold onto the object in one arm. In a matter of seconds he emerged from below the surface of the water, gasping for air, but not decreasing his speed as he moved back towards the edge of the pool. He pushed the object up onto the ground beside the pool, pulling himself up over the edge._

"_One minute ten seconds, not bad for a rookie," the boy who had blown the whistle was smiling down at him, "If that were a real person he may have just survived."_

_Blaine lay flat on his back, trying to catch his breath. He looked up at the tall boy standing above him. Blaine couldn't help but notice his good looks; he had sandy-blonde hair with slightly tanned skin; the golden sunlight was hitting his perfectly modelled abs, making him look like he was posing for a Hollister photo-shoot. He found himself marvelling at the boy and quickly snapped himself out of it, feeling slightly guilty._

"_I've been training for four days, you'd think my time would have improved by at least more than ten seconds," Blaine said sullenly as he got up to take the towel that the taller boy was now offering him. He was having second thoughts about his choice of summer job; maybe he should have gotten something that didn't require any training - a job at the canteen, or something like that. But, then again, Kurt was out of town, and he needed something to distract him until he got back…_

"_Hey, nobody becomes a lifeguard overnight," the boy's hand grazed Blaine's slightly as he passed him the towel, "you're doing better than I did when I first started training."_

"_I-I find that hard to believe, but, thanks," Blaine replied; he had seen him doing his drills earlier - he was by far faster and stronger then any of the other lifeguards there. Blaine began to dry himself off with the towel, still feeling somewhat flustered at the brief touch of their hands. The boy grinned at Blaine, not moving his eyes off of him as he finished drying himself off._

"_It's Blaine, right?" The boy asked, still studying Blaine's body._

"_Uh…y-yeah. Yeah, I'm Blaine..." Blaine stammered as he wrapped the towel around his shoulders, suddenly feeling exposed._

"_Lucas." _

"_Yeah, I - I know. We - we talked earlier, before training…" Blaine trailed off; had he really made that little of an impression?_

"_Oh, I know. I just didn't think a gorgeous guy like you would remember me; what, with all the guys that must approach you every day." _

_Blaine's eyes widened; was he…was he hitting on him? Before he even had a chance to respond, Lucas had turned to walk around the pool,_

"_We're the last ones here; could you help me cover the pool?" He called back to Blaine,_

"_-Um, sure..." Blaine replied, not perfectly sure if Lucas could still hear him; he had already reached the other side of the pool and disappeared out of sight to unroll the massive pool covering. Blaine paused for a moment, then, picking up the mock victim he had just rescued from the pool, he followed after the taller boy to help him, snapping himself out of the slight trance that the boy seemed to have had put him in._

* * *

"_You're stronger than you look, new boy," The tall boy spoke, just as they had finished covering the pool._

"…_Th-thanks?" Blaine replied, frowning slightly. Was that a compliment? Furthermore, was he ever going to stop calling him nicknames? "…You know, you uh, you know my name now; do you ever plan on using it?"_

_Lucas looked intently at him as they walked towards the entrance building, which contained a small office and changing rooms,_

"_I guess I could do that…Blaine - Hm, Blaine…Bla-ine…." he mulled over his name slowly, his tongue rolling over it again and again, his eyes moving over Blaine as he spoke._

_They took the last steps towards the entrance building, Blaine now feeling thoroughly self-conscious as Lucas's gaze once again moved over him,_

"_-Well, um, thanks for helping me train today. It was-great. Maybe I'll see you around-"_

"_-Where are you going?" The blonde haired boy asked him in an inquisitive tone._

"…_To get changed?" Blaine asked, wondering why the other boy was questioning him, "…then go home…" He continued, thinking this should be obvious._

"_Oh. Right. It's just – I could really use some help closing up…" Lucas looked at Blaine with imploring eyes._

"_It's - uh - It's getting pretty late…" Blaine replied, noting that the golden sun was already starting to make its descent beyond the horizon._

"_Oh, right. No - It's ok - I just wish I could spend some more time with you; we've only just met," he said the last words playfully._

"_Won't I see you at training tomorrow?" _

"_Afraid not – this was my last day of the season. I'm leaving for summer vacation tomorrow."_

"…_Oh," Blaine responded, "…Look, I really would like to spend more time with you, but, I should go; my parents will be waiting…" he said, thankful for an excuse. He didn't want to spend any more time alone with Lucas. It wasn't that he didn't like him; but something about being with him made him feel slightly…uneasy._

"_I understand. Well, I'm going to go clear up in the office. Maybe I'll see you before you leave, Blaine." Blaine's name once again rolled off of Lucas's tongue; he had a way of pronouncing it that made it sound slick and smooth._

_Blaine gave him a small smile and nodded his head. He stood awkwardly for a moment before turning to make his way into the changing room._

_Blaine entered the dingy changing room and scanned the bench along the wall for his stuff. His eyes landed on his clothes and towel, sitting in a pile below the bench, slightly damp from the wet floor. He picked them up and placed them on the bench to avoid them from getting even more soaked, then took his towel and moved towards the showers. _

_There weren't any separate stalls in the shower area; merely three showerheads coming out of a sectioned off wall at the end of the changing room; one of which didn't run hot water and another which didn't work at all. Blaine dumped his towel on the floor and moved towards the working one. He turned it on, grimacing slightly as the cold water came down on his body. He waited as the water slowly started to warm up, then put his head under the stream, letting the water thoroughly drench his hair. He closed his eyes and stood still for a moment, immersing himself in thought as he let the water run over his body…_

_Blaine opened his eyes a while later to the sound of footsteps. He looked up to see Lucas walking towards him._

"_Hey," Lucas smiled at Blaine as he walked past him to turn on the next shower over, "looks like you beat me to the warm shower." _

_Blaine laughed awkwardly in response, suddenly feeling slightly uncomfortable at the fact that they were both clad in nothing but tight swim shorts. He turned to face the wall, dispensing some shampoo into his hands and lathering it into his thick curls, tilting his head back in order to avoid getting any in his eyes. He closed his eyes again as he rinsed his hair, working his hands through it to make sure all the shampoo was gone. _

_Blaine paused after a few seconds, suddenly feeling someone behind him, _

"_You know, Blaine," a voice breathed into his ear, "I could really use a warm shower..."_

_Blaine sucked in a quick breath as he felt a pair of hands being placed around his hips._

"…_Lucas?" Blaine managed to breathe out after a moment, "Lucas, what-"_

"_-Shhh…" Blaine felt the pair of hands move up from his hips to his chest._

_Blaine hesitated. He tried to protest; he wanted badly to tell him to stop, to tell him that he couldn't; but the words just wouldn't escape his mouth. _

_Lucas's hands moved over his chest, making Blaine moan slightly as his cold fingers caressed him._

_Blaine sucked in another deep breath, trying desperately to gather himself. He had to stop this. He took Lucas's hands in his own and moved them off his chest, turning around to face him._

"_Lucas, I really can't," he began, _

"_-Did I come on too strong?" Lucas interrupted Blaine mid-sentence._

"_-No. Well, yes. But, that's not it…" Blaine looked up to see Lucas's marine-blue eyes drinking him in, "…I have a boyfriend, Lucas…"_

"_Mhmm," Lucas said, moving his hands back to Blaine's hips, not fully hearing what Blaine was trying to tell him. _

_Blaine didn't move to take his hands off of his hips this time, but instead looked into Lucas's eyes with a pleading look, as though he was waiting for Lucas to stop; waiting for him to stop and tell him this was a bad idea, because he wasn't sure he knew it himself…_

"_It'll be fun…No one will have to know..." Lucas said, his voice barely a whisper._

"_...It's just one night…" he continued, saying the opposite of what Blaine wanted to hear. And with that, Lucas placed a hungry kiss onto Blaine's mouth and started to move his hands downwards from Blaine's hips…_

* * *

"…_If I had stopped him right there_, Sebastian…If I had just _fucking_ stopped him right there. If I hadn't been so fucking easily manipulated by his words. If I hadn't waited for him to stop; _if I had just stopped him myself_-" Blaine broke off as his tears caught up to him.

Sebastian placed a comforting hand on Blaine's back,

"-_I wouldn't be here, Seb. I - I wouldn't be telling you this. I wouldn't be…I wouldn't be in the fucking state that I am now…" _Blaine continued through his tears.

"It's ok, Blaine, you're - you're gonna be ok-" Sebastian attempted to comfort him.

"-_It's - It's not just me I'm worried about, Sebastian_…"

A look of confusion flickered across Sebastian's eyes as he waited for Blaine to continue, but Blaine didn't, he looked at Sebastian expectantly, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Blaine…I…" He began, racking his brain, trying to figure out what Blaine was getting at.

Blaine looked at him with painful eyes for another few moments, hoping desperately that he wouldn't have to say out loud what he was thinking. Suddenly a look of realization swept across Sebastian's eyes.

"…Kurt," was all Sebastian managed to say. He guessed by the pained look in Blaine's eyes as he uttered the name that he was correct.

"…You – you haven't told him…?" he continued on cautiously.

Blaine tried to speak, but every time his tears got in his way, choking him as he tried to utter a word. He eventually gave up, and only just managed to give Sebastian a weak nod in return.

Sebastian sucked in a deep breath. He knew fully well what this meant.

"Blaine…you…you need to tell him." He said, in as steady a voice as he could manage.

Blaine's expression took a slightly irritated look to it as Sebastian said this.

"_Don't you think I've tried?_" He managed to choke out over his sobs, "_Because I have._ _Every time I'm with him I try. But then I see his face. And, I just – I can't. He didn't do anything, Seb. He doesn't deserve this. And, I just - I just can't tell him – I just can't see him like I am…I just can't do that to him-" _Blaine broke off again as the words that were tumbling out of his mouth came to a stop and his tears once again took over.

"…Blaine – what you're doing isn't fair. I know it's hard, I really do, but…he deserves to know," Sebastian looked at him, trying to catch his eye and make him understand what he was saying, "for the sake of his own health, at the very least. You owe it to him, Blaine."

Blaine sat silently for a moment, letting Sebastian's words sink in. He knew he was right. Part of him didn't want to believe it, but there was no denying that he was right. He nodded sullenly and looked up to meet Sebastian's eyes. Neither of the boys said anything for another few minutes as Blaine gathered himself, his tears slowly growing lesser and lesser.

"…Thanks," Blaine said, his voice still slightly cracked.

"Anytime, Blaine." Sebastian told him gently, giving him a sincere smile.

"Not – not just for the advice. For – for realizing that something was wrong, for listening to me…"

"-For letting you cry in my car…" Sebastian said teasingly, giving Blaine a wink.

"Yes - for letting me cry in your car," Blaine let out a small laugh, "…I'm sorry. I must look like a complete mess."

"No, actually, I'm kinda digging the no-hair gel-puffy-red-eyes look. It suits you."

Blaine rolled his eyes. The old Sebastian was back. But, he had a new sincerity to him, and Blaine didn't mind the snarky comments so much any more.

"Well – I should go," Blaine said, reaching towards the door handle to open it, "…thanks again, Sebastian."

He closed the door of Sebastian's car and walked back to his own, feeling somehow better than he had in a long time.


End file.
